Sindbad Will Have a Son
Sindbad had noticed alarmed for some time that his beer belly was getting spikier and spikier. “I will have a son,” he was wont to say to his friends, “I’m three month big with child.” However, he gave no details to them on why he approached the water from the dressing-room with pulling in his belly and throwing out his chest in the indoor swimming-pool he visited. Without avail, he was well over the hill and deemed nothing more ridiculous than a thin fellow with a tummy.
The sailor was a great hypochondriac, and when on a showery spring day his stomach began to ache he got – as was his habit– immediately scared and wondered what the problem could be. It was a strange, earlier inapprehensible pain. Of course he immediately started to think that it was a psychosoma
